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ARMY PARODIES 
by Private MORRIS GOLDMAN 

Co. 1, 102nd U. S. Infantry Regiment, 26th Division 




Private MORRIS GOLDMAN 
The Yankee Division Song Writer 

PRICE - TWENTY-FIVE CENTS 



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Let us be Soldiers Always, All-Ways 



To be always ready, and willing to fight 
against weakness, and injustice wherever 
we may find it. And in this great and 
noble cause, let us begin with ourselves. 



JUN k7 1919 



There's Lots of Little Cooties in the Army 

By Private Morris Goldman 

(Tune) Chorus of There Must Be Little Cupids in the Sea 

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There's lots of little cooties in the army, 
There's lots of little cooties over sea, 
Every man is surely got his share 
Every man has got at least a pair, 
There's lots of little cooties in the army 
Doing squads right and left merrily, 
And the fellows v^rithout any 
Are not very, very many. 
For there's lots of little cooties over sea. 

II 
(This verse was written before Cootie inspection) 

Every man must leave the cooties in the army, 

Every man must leave the cooties over sea, 

Every man is surely got his share 

Every man must leave at least a pair 

Every man must leave the cooties in the army, 

Doing squads right and left merrily. 

For the fellows without any 

Are not very, very many 

They must leave the little cooties over sea. 

Ill 
(This verse was written after Cootie inspection) 

There are no more little cooties in the army 

There are no more little cooties over sea. 

Every man has surely had his share 

Every man has left at least a pair 

There are no more Httle cooties in the army. 

Doing squads right and left merrily. 

And the fellows that have any 

Are not very, very many, 

There are no more little cooties over sea. 



The Mess Line 

By Private Morris Goldman 
(Tune) — Keep Your Head Down, Fritsy Boy 

1 

While standing in the line, 

Your bean bag tells you its feeding time, 

Every morning you get rice, 

If you kick you get it twice: 

So stop your kicking soldier boy. 

2 

If your food is only half done. 

It gives your bean bag a chance for fun, 

To the sick call you just go 

When you hear the bugle blow 

And get your C. C. pill, soldier boy. 

3 
If your Boston beans are burned 
It's nothing new so we all have learned. 
The sergeant stands there with a grin 
When for seconds we fall in, 
So stop your kicking, soldier boy. 

4 
If your slum contains too much salt. 
It's not always the K. P.'s fault, 
They just had a little gin 
When the salt was shoveled in. 
So stop your kicking, soldier boy. 

5 
Stop your pushing in the line. 
You'll all get your slum in time. 
There is slum enough for all 
When you hear the bugle call. 
So stop your pushing, soldier boy. 



Noble Men 


of Y. D. the Nation Gives 
Thanks to Thee 


Its 


By 


Private Morris Goldman 




(Tune) 


— The Sunshine of Your Smile 




While the words 


of this song is dedicated to the 


Y. D. 


(The Yankee 


Division), the same sentiments apply to | 


all the noble 


men and women over here, and 


"Over 


There" who did their share to prove "that right 


makes 



might," and right will always win. 



Noble men of Y. D., you certainly can be proud. 
The splendid work you did is told with praises loud, 
Your bravery, has made those Germans flee. 
At Chateau Thierry, you paved the way, for victory. 

Chorus 
So come all you Y, D. 
And have a drink with me. 

You turned the trick and made those Germans sick, 
Noble sons of Y. D. the nation gives its thanks to thee, 
You saved the world, for all humanity. 



To Sergeant Roberts, of Co. I 

By Private Morris Goldman 
(Tune) — Chorus of It's a Long Way to Tip O'Rary 

There's a sergeant whose name is Roberts 

He is always full of fun 

Just as soon as he enters the billet, 

He keeps every man on the run. 

For tricks of all kinds and a sunny nature 

He surely can't be beat, 

There's a sergeant whose name is Roberts 

And his company is a treat. 



The Ride in the Box Car 

By Private Morris Goldman 
(Tune) — Some One Thinks of Some One 

Packed In a box car 

We had to ride very far, 

Soon everyone w^anted to sleep, 

It didn't take long, 

You could hear one's sweet song 

When the men on each other did creep; 

Say, con't you look out? 

You could hear them all shout 

As mad as the devils could be, 

But the creepers replied, 

It's in a box car we ride 

Packed forty, instead of twenty-three 

Chorus 
So some men had to stay awake all night. 
Some men had to shiver and freeze, 
Because there wasn't enough room 
To sit or bend the knees; 
The cars were meant for twenty, 
And we were packed in double that amount 
But we were only a bunch of privates 
And privates' comfort is of no account. 



Old Glory Must Win So Humanity May Live 

By Private Morris Goldman 
(Tune) — My Country 'Tis of Thee 

1 
We were forced into this war, 
Compelled to make our cannons roar, 
For the land we love; 
We tried our best for peace 
So that this war would cease 
The call of Uncle Sam to please, 
Our great God, above. 

2 

We'll fight for all we're, worth 
To restore peace on earth, 
Then we'll be through; 
Our great love for liberty, 
Will make all nations free, 
In every land and sea. 
We'll bring justice too. 

3 
We must and will win the war, 
Fight as we never fought before. 
Old glory must win; 
Oppression has had its day, 
Freedom must come to stay, 
We'll drive its foes away. 
Eternal peace we'll bring in. 

4 

America has always stood, 
For love and brotherhood, 
For these we live; 
We fight for our ideals 
To cure the world's ills. 
We believe our God so wills. 
So humanity may live. 



We Are Back to the U. S. A. and WeVe 
Going to Stay 

By Private Morris Goldman 
(Tune) — Keep the Home Fires Burning 



We are through with mud and water, 

And the sunny land of France, 

We are through with blood, and slaughter 

We licked the Hunny with our glance, 

Now good-bye to you dear shell holes 

For we surely won't miss you, 

We no longer shall have death tolls 

And we're through with darkness too. 

Chorus 

So good-bye France and mud dear, 
Good-bye rain every day in the year, 
Good-bye beans and hard tack too 
We are through with you. 
Good-bye cold and hunger. 
We'll know you no longer, 
For we're back to the U. S. A. 
And we're going to stay. 



We are through with carrying full packs 
And we're through with double time, 
Many loads we carried on our backs 
Heavy enough to break your spine. 
We are through with doing squads right, 
And with you dear K, P. too, 
No more riding box cars air tight. 
And being put on details too. 



Farewell to France 

By Private Morris Goldman 
(Tune) — A Perfect Day 

Dear France, we paid our debt to you 

And now we're going back; 

No longer shall free nations mourn 

And its people be dressed in black. 

For Uncle Sam is the friend of every man 

And the nations who fight for right, 

We have proved that rule by might has passed 

And that only right makes might. 

Now the sun is shining everywhere, 

And the hearts of all are glad, 

We are going back to God's country 

Where the loved ones we left were sad, 

Can you picture the joy in each mother's heart? 

When the Y. D. comes marching home, 

And the joy it will bring to each sweetheart 

Who 'til now was left all alone. 




LET'S ALL HELP THE SALVATION 
ARMY 

By Private Morris Goldman 
(Tune) — Glory, Glory, Halleluyjah 



The Salvation Army helped the brave lads "Over There, 

Serving hot coffee, and doughnuts 

While shells were busting in the air, 

They banished fear and, spread good cheer, 

Wherever they would go. 

We want the people all to know. 



• • Chorus 

Let's all help the Salvation Army. 

They did splendid work, to keep all nations free. 

With an open heart 

They did their part. 

To scatter sunshine everywhere. 

They were mothers to the boys "Over There." 



The Salvation Army went as far as they could go. 

They helped to ruin the Kaiser 

For they proved that he was slovv, 

His submarines were only dreams, 

Of a brain that couldn't think, 

So we put him on the blink. 



ADDITIONAL COPIES 

of this booklet will be mailed post paid, to 
any part of the United States for 25 Cents. 
Send coin or postage stamps. 
Write your name and address plainly. 



MORRIS GOLDMAN 
3103 Third Ave. Bronx, N. Y. City 



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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

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GET THE HABIT 



Get the habit, look at the bright side of things 

Encourage the writer, and the man who sings, 

Every one of us have our ups and downs 

And only melancholly is the reward, of the man 
who continually frowns. 

So throw out your belly, pardon me, I meant 
your chest, 

Wear a smile and success will be, your eternal 
rue St. 



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